Is it October yet? Part 3: Bob Baun

This is the third (and last) in a series of posts looking at historic hockey injuries, intended to keep me busy and you interested while we wait for October to get here.

The history was provided by Jen aka @NHLhistorygirl. Jen is a librarian and graduate student at the University of North Dakota in the last stage of her MA in history: writing her thesis on the 1972 Summit Series, media, and notions of national identity.

Badass Bobby Baun

The history…

Bob Baun is not afraid of pain. During Game 6 of the 1964 Stanley Cup Final, he was hit in the ankle by a Gordie Howe shot. He continued playing, but when he circled to clear the puck from the zone, he heard an audible pop and went down.

The trainers carried Baun off the ice on a stretcher, and an examination of the ankle in the dressing room revealed major swelling and a large welt. Baun insisted the trainer inject painkillers and tape the leg to keep the swelling down. With his leg wrapped from foot to nearly his knee, Baun squeezed back into the skate and finished the period.

For whatever reason though, the painkiller wore off quickly, and so Baun needed several more shots. When he returned to the bench in overtime after one of the shots, coach Punch Imlach was sending Carl Brewer and Kent Douglas onto the ice. Baun took Douglas’ place, caught the pass from Bob Pulford, and scored the game winner, tying the series with Detroit at 3-3.

On the train back to Toronto, Baun knew his leg was broken. Imlach knew it too, ordering Baun to see the team doctor at 9 am the next morning. Rather than see the doctor and sit out Game 7, Baun packed an overnight bag and went to a friend’s farm to hide out. He refused to even tell his wife where he was.

After almost two days of hiding, rest, and ice, Baun appeared at Maple Leaf Gardens 30 minutes before Game 7, because he knew that was “too late for them to check me out and stop me from playing.” He suited up and played a shift or two in the 4-0 victory over the Red Wings. He wasn’t allowed to celebrate much, as he was sent almost immediately to hospital, where x-rays revealed a jagged fracture immediately above the ankle, in the fibula.

The medicine…

As broken legs go, fibula fractures are among the most interesting, and yet they get the least attention. Poor fibula fractures. No respect.

Fibuwhat?

The fibula. It’s that other bone in your lower leg. The one you don’t think about. It’s not part of your shin, it doesn’t bear much weight, and when it breaks it doesn’t look anywhere near as spectacular as a broken tibia. It’s also fairly scrawny.

Tibiwho?

The tibia. It’s the bone in your lower leg that you know and love. It’s your shin. It’s the weight-bearer. It’s the one you whack on the coffee table in the dark. When it breaks, it’s generally pretty obvious, and pretty gross.

Anterior (front) view of the right leg

The question is how Bob Baun could last two days and a hockey game with a broken leg. The answer is because it was his fibula that was broken, and because he was an enormous badass. Generally when you break your lower leg, you break the tibia, or the tibia and fibula (which we call a tib-fib fracture because that sounds cooler). The tibia and fibula are attached together by a flat ligament (the interosseous membrane), which is why they’re frequently broken together. In Baun’s case, the isolated lateral force from Howe’s shot resulted in just a fibular fracture.

Treatment

Fibular fractures are fairly easy to treat assuming they’re not open (bone poking through skin), displaced (bone going somewhere it shouldn’t), or comminuted (bone broken into multiple pieces). The first order of business is pain control. Bones are covered by periosteum, a membrane that has the distinction of being lousy with pain receptors. That would be why broken bones hurt so much (SCIENCE!).

Since the fibula is non-weight-bearing (or minimally weight-bearing – a distinction we won’t get into, but that orthopods love to fight about), simple fractures are treated with a cast for the first two or three days, and a pair of crutches if needed. That gives you time to get into the ortho office, where they’ll put you in a walking cast or a cam walker, which you can buy on Amazon, but probably shouldn’t. They’ll also take away your crutches if you’re still using them. After three to four weeks of immobilization, the cast comes off, and a splint is used on an as-needed basis for exercise. Athletes can generally return to light training after just a few weeks, but full recovery is a six- to eight-week process. Sports that consist of a lot of twisting and trauma to the leg (like hockey or soccer), however, can require a much longer healing period (as much as 18 to 24 weeks) in order to prevent refracture.

As with any injury, the healing process for fibula fractures is helped along by physical therapy, consisting of strengthening exercises and getting yelled at.

The Take-Home

Basically, Bob Baun was a complete animal. He had a fracture that you can walk on, but broken bones HURT. He sucked it up and hid out so he could play in game 7. Smart decision? No, probably not. Understandable? Yes, probably.

Oh, and in case you weren’t aware – hockey season starts again soon. I know, I know, I’m excited too. Many thanks to Jen for collaborating on this series!!!